


Back Asswards

by Kiiratam



Category: RWBY
Genre: Backrubs, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Minific, Yang succumbs to the lure of the Bellabooty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 13:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: In between classes, Blake asks Yang for a backrub.Takes place between Volumes 1 and 2. (My BMBLB fic index)





	Back Asswards

"Oh, right there." Blake squeezed her eyes shut. "Just... stay there. Forever."

  
Yang snorted, kept kneading The Right Spot on Blake's back. "We have class in five."

  
Sighing happily, Blake stayed sprawled out on the grass. If she kept this up, Yang was pretty sure Blake would just melt into a puddle. And while that would be _entertaining_, Dr Oobleck hated people being late to his class. He started talking as soon as class started, picking right up where he'd left off last class. And everything was fair game for tests. Even if he was more interested in their understanding of the material than the minutia.

  
But, **Blake**. Happy Blake. Not anxious, actually unwinding, happy Blake.

  
"How are your hands so _warm_? It's amazing. Like getting a backrub from a hot pad." And, apparently, chatty Blake. Apparently, Yang needed to give her more backrubs.

  
"I just run hot. And I think it's linked to my Semblance." Yang rolled her knuckles down Blake's spine. "The more hits I store, the warmer I get." She made herself stop while she was still on Blake's back. Not her butt. Even though the base of the spine _was_ right there, and it was a point where people carried tension. And Yang would have been more than happy to help. Butt... Yang corrected herself. But... she didn't want to do anything without Blake giving her very specific directions. Or some serious forward progress in their... relationship. Whatever it was. Team mate camaraderie. Close room mates. Definitely only that, at this point, at Blake's half-spoken request.

  
Blake wriggled, hands clenching and unclenching the grass. "You ever hit yourself with a stick to charge up, so you're warm in the middle of winter?"

  
"Jump off the roof, fall down the stairs, make Ruby use me as a punching bag. Whatever works, (though the last one is really slow). Heat is expensive out on a farmstead."

  
"It's worse in tents." Amazingly, mentioning the White Fang didn't make her back tense up. Usually, even the vague references Blake made gave her some discomfort.

  
Yang nodded, even though Blake couldn't see her. "Yeah, it would be." Yang was still sure that this was pretty fraught conversational ground, and she wanted to move on, and not have all of Blake's tension rush back in.

  
"I'm just going to sit on you this winter. All of it." She was nearly purring with contentment, head pillowed in her jacket.

  
"Um. Beacon doesn't have class during the winter, Blake."

  
"Don't care. I will follow you wherever you go, because you are warm." It wasn't exactly what Yang wanted to hear, but she wasn't about to object too much. However, she also knew Blake was only saying this through the haze of backrubs. It wasn't a commitment, or a promise.

  
Yang made herself stop. She patted Blake's back, tried to keep her attention focused on that, and not how good Blake's butt looked in her skirt. "Better?"

  
"Don't stooooop."

  
"Blake. Class?"

  
She groaned, and planted her arms underneath her. Pushed her torso up, and kept her legs on the ground, stretching her back. Yang lost the fight, and glanced downward. How did that much definition even show through the skirt? You could bounce bullets off of it. Yang was still looking as Blake rose to her feet. She had given up fighting and was absolutely enraptured when Blake bent over to get her book bag and jacket, and started off for class.

  
Blake looked back over her shoulder. Either didn't see, or ignored, the line of Yang's gaze. "Yang?"

  
Shaking herself, Yang scrambled to her feet, bag in hand. "Coming." She pulled out her scroll to check the time. "We're going to have to run."

  
Nodding, Blake took off, with Yang in her wake. Yang wasn't sure if she _could_ catch up, but she was sure she didn't want to. The view was way too nice back here.


End file.
